


Fresh Faced

by PlagueClover



Category: Original Work
Genre: Arguing, Dogs, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, Ghosts, Horror, LGBTQ Character of Color, M/M, Moving, Neighbors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:42:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23019496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlagueClover/pseuds/PlagueClover
Summary: Miguel just moved into his new house, but there's something strange... in the neighbourhood... Who's he gonna call? Okay, I'll stop. But if that song is now in your head, you're welcome.This is a haunted house horror story.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	Fresh Faced

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fulfillment of the prompt:
> 
> "The phone rings, when the MC looks at the screen the number is a familiar one. But when they answer expecting to hear the voice of other character they hear their own voice instead asking for their help. What will they do?"
> 
> Also it's only been lightly betaed and edited, so I hope we got all the errors! *crosses fingers*

Written Feb 24-27th

#  Fresh Faced

By Sam Clover. AKA Pyrate

Miguel woke with a start. His wide eyes darted around the room as his heart raced, but all was quiet. Morning light streamed through his curtains that billowed softly in the breeze. His bedroom door was wide open to the sun-flooded hallway and its east-facing floor-to-ceiling windows. 

God, it was bright. So much for sleeping in. At least not until he got some curtains for those things. 

Miguel groaned and stretched his arms above his head. A pair of big brown eyes watched from the foot of that shitty inflatable mattress, and when he finally settled in and gave that expectant gaze a smile, a big, fluffy tail immediately wagged in answer. 

“Good morning, Leonidas.”

The dog let out a quiet, excited huff and hopped to his feet. Miguel’s best guess was that Leonidas was some mixture of Tibetan Mastiff and hell hound. He was massive, with a dark coat that doubled his size, and a face that would make any would-be-robber shit their pants. 

Until they saw the derpy smile, at least. Almost adorable enough to chase away the lingering chill of his dream. 

Couldn’t remember what it was. Just fleeting feelings of unease and panic still stirring in his belly. 

Probably stress about the move. And all these boxes he still had to unpack. 

With a resigned groan, Miguel climbed off the ever-sinking, inflatable mattress. His toes curled against the cool stone floor. He’d need to get a nice, soft throw rug or something for that. It would be brutal in the winter. 

He snatched his robe off the back of a chair and shuffled out of the room with the soft patter of Leonidas’ claws at his heels. 

“First night down,” Miguel murmured. He gave Leo’s head a scratch, and then shrugged into his robe and pulled it closed. 

It wasn’t quite cold enough in there to warrant it, but he didn’t feel like getting dressed, and walking outside naked probably wouldn’t make the best first impression on his new neighbours. 

He paused by the patio doors to grab his phone off the charging station on the floor, and cast a glance outside. 

The sunlight streaming in bathed his face as his gaze swept across the pretty little yard. Felt a little excited flutter in his own chest. He’d never owned a home before. Never owned a yard, and this picturesque splash of green carved out of the suburbs was all his.

It overlooked a little woodland beyond his quaint picket fence. It was flush with greenery itself. Little shrubs and vines all over the place, and a nice stretch of lawn for his fluffy beast. 

“Are you ready to christen this bitch?” he asked playfully. 

Leonidas let out an anxious whine as his tail wagged so hard, it wiggled his whole body. 

“Yup, you look pretty ready. Okay!” Miguel clapped and Leonidas huffed. Then he pulled open the french doors and watched his gorgeous beast bound happily out into the sun. 

Happy little grunts narrated Leonidas’ journey zigzagging across the yard, from bush to rock, to stick, investigating every conceivable inch. Miguel grinned to himself as he stepped out onto his porch and folded his arms lightly over his chest. 

“Whoa!” A deep voice growled. “What the fuck is that?”

Now that was a tone he knew. A tone he heard all the fucking time. The tone of an asshole about to bash his derpy beast. 

Miguel breathed a long suffering sigh. For a moment, he opted not to dignify the question with a response. But as he saw in his peripheral, the prick approaching his fence, he reluctantly peeled his eyes away from Leonidas and treated the guy to an unimpressed stare. 

“You’re not a dog person, huh?” Miguel finally said. 

“Dog? No, that’s no dog.” The guy looked both indignant as fuck, and furious. “That thing looks like a bear hate-fucked a lion.” 

And he was hot too. Rich, dark skin. Long locs that spilled over his shoulders and halfway down his back, woven with gold flecks. His black sleeveless showed way too much of his muscular, tatted arms. Sculpted to the gods.

Miguel tried not to stare too hard. Wouldn’t help him look like the better man in this situation if he was drooling all over the asshole. “Why don’t you just worry about the ‘things’ in your yard,” Miguel said with a glance at the two dudes watching from lawn chairs on a half-finished deck. “and I’ll worry about the thing in mine.”

“How you gonna keep it in your yard? It could just step over the fence.”

“He won’t.”

“How do you know?” The guy narrowed his eyes at Miguel and tilted his head in angry, mock curiosity. “I got cats. If that motherfucker comes over here and messes with my babies, we gonna have a problem.” 

Miguel sucked in a deep breath. He raised his eyes to the big blue sky for just a moment, to ground himself. He could feel his anger rising, and he wanted to stay calm. Then he started down the steps of his porch. 

The grass was cool beneath his toes. Still vaguely wet with dew, and a soft breeze threatened to blow open his robe, but he held it closed as he approached the fence. The guy watched. That mock curiosity quickly turned genuine. And when Miguel stopped inches from his face, a baffled smirk tugged at the guy’s lips. 

“Leonidas doesn’t,” Miguel spoke soft and clear as he held the fucker’s gaze, “give a flying fuck about your cats.”

“Leonidas?” The guy repeated. His smirk grew just a little. “Am I just supposed to take your word for it? That a big-ass fucking dog isn’t going to go after a cat?” 

Miguel offered an exaggerated shrug. “I don’t think you have much of a choice.” He nodded at the fucker’s porch. “And I hope you’re planning to finish that fucking eyesore soon. God, what colour is that? Chunky vomit?”

The guy barked an angry laugh. He looked back to his friends, who answered his glance with amused snorts. “That is paradise green.” 

“Ah, that explains it. You picked it out.”

The guy turned back to grip the fence on either side of Miguel and peered into his eyes. “Are you coming for me right now?”

Before Miguel could answer, his phone buzzed in his hand and a pulsing EDM ringtone filled the air. He hesitated. Didn’t want to break that stare they had going. Didn’t want to be the first to look away. 

The guy arched a playful brow. “You gonna get that?”

Miguel huffed through his nose. He would have ignored it if he wasn’t expecting all kinds of moving-in calls to be flooding in throughout the day. So he reluctantly glanced at the screen. 

And saw his own number. 

Weird. Maybe his phone was glitching out. He hit the green circle and held it to his ear. He treated the asshole across the fence to one last glare before he turned dismissively away and said, “Bueno?”

A short screech of static answered that made Miguel cringe. He recoiled away from the earpiece a few inches with his brow furrowed. 

“Ay,” he hissed. He asked once more, “Hola?” and when silence answered, he grumbled and moved to hang up, “Great. My fucking phone’s broken.” 

He was just about to hit the red icon when he heard a voice. It was faint at first. Could barely make it out. His brows knit tighter. He pressed the phone to his ear as he tapped on the volume. 

“Please,” the voice said. And a chill clawed up his spine. “Help me.”

It was his voice. His own fucking voice. 

He swallowed hard. “Who the fuck is this?” His eyes darted back to the guy at the fence, who was now watching him with a frown.

“Miguel,” the voice answered. And it lowered to a hushed whisper as it said, “I don’t know what to do. I think I’m dying.” 

Every single hair on his body prickled on end. Goosebumps broke out over his arms. Miguel hung up quick, and for a moment, he stared baffled at the phone. Because it only took that moment for the screen to light up again and that number to blink across it. 

His fucking number. 

Miguel ripped the back off his phone. Quick, jerky movements that betrayed his fear. He knocked out the battery. Pulled out the sim card. And then he stared at the darkened screen as he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. 

A few seconds of silence passed. Even Leonidas had stopped to stare at him with concern in those big brown eyes. 

“What,” the guy at the fence started to say. 

But the phone lit up. That number blinked across the screen. And the pulsing EDM began to play. 

Miguel tossed the fucking thing onto the lawn. He grabbed a rock out of his garden and smashed it down on top of his phone. It took two swings to silence it completely, and even then he didn’t want to stick around to see if it would ring some more, so he hurried up the porch. Leonidas was quick to follow, and he closed and locked the French doors behind them. 

\--

It felt like burning. That’s all Miguel could remember as his eyes fluttered the sleep away. 

The sound of barking sobered him quick. He cast a panicked glance around the dark room, and to the LED numbers of the alarm clock on the floor beside his air mattress. 

Three AM. 

Every deep, guttural bark sent his panic spiking. This wasn’t like Leonidas. He never barked in earnest unless something was seriously fucking wrong. Miguel’s first sleep-starved thought was fire. But there was no smoke. No smell. His second thought was intruder, but who the fuck would try to rob him with that massive beast? And before his stuff even arrived?

He got up and snatched his robe. The remnants of his dream still clung to him. All that did, though, was amp up his anxiety. He pulled his robe tight around himself as he shuffled across the cold stone tile, into the living room. 

Banging and barking filled the air. He paused just a step out of his bedroom to take in the scene: the lights off, Leonidas barking at the door, and a broad silhouette through the frosted glass looking tense. Shifting anxiously as it continued to bang a fist on the door. 

“Leo,” Miguel hissed. 

Leonidas looked at him, and let out a low, panicked grunt. 

Miguel made his way reluctantly over. Every step ramped up his fear. He wasn’t sure he was brave enough for this shit - he wanted to run back into his room, lock the door and hope they went away. But instead, without turning on the light because why the fuck would he want to give himself away, he went to the door and peeked out the spy hole. 

There, on the other side, was the neighbour. Beautiful, flawless locs, a nice square jaw twisted with alarm and inner conflict. He stopped banging to pace back and forth with an eye on the door like he was thinking of kicking it down. 

What the fuck was up with this neighbourhood? 

Miguel unlocked the door and with a reluctant sigh, he pulled it open. 

The guy blinked at him. Looked a little stunned and recoiled a bit when Leonidas rushed out to sniff at him, but he kept his wide eyes on Miguel. “Jesus fuck... Are you okay?”

“Am ‘I’ okay?” Miguel’s eyes darted to a glinting black shape in the guy’s hand. “Wait, what the fuck is that?”

The guy gave Leonidas a quick scowl, then he shouldered past Miguel, into the house. “The way you were screaming, I thought you were getting your ass murdered.”

“Is that a gun?” Miguel shoved the door closed and glared at the fucker’s back. “Did you seriously just bring a fucking gun into my house?”

He stopped. His tense shoulders twitched, muscles coiled like he was ready to spring into action at any moment. He glanced back at Miguel’s scowl and repeated, “You were screaming.”

Miguel offered a one-armed shrug because the other arm was dedicated to holding his robe closed. “It wasn’t me.”

“No?”

“Nope.”

“So,” the guy shrugged back. Wide, with both arms and emphasized it with his whole face. “Whole neighbourhood’s woke by screaming coming from this house. I was standing right the fuck outside, I heard it coming out your windows myself. And you telling me it wasn’t you.”

“There’s about to be some fucking screaming if you don’t get that gun out of my house.”

“There’s-” The guy cut himself off with a frustrated laugh and shook his head. He looked down at the gun and gave a roll of the eyes that was half exasperated, half an excuse to glance down the hall as if he was still sure there was a murder happening somewhere. “Goddamn... It’s not a gun.”

Miguel’s eyes fluttered. He stepped forward. “It’s what?”

The guy sighed. “It’s a...”

Miguel snatched it from his hand.

“Fuck!” The guy’s lips thinned into an irritated line. He tried to snatch it back, but Miguel stashed it behind his back. “Come on, now.”

Miguel spun away as he inspected the thing. It was heavy. Probably not as heavy as a real gun, though. “Smart,” he muttered. “Come to a strangers house with a toy.” He tried the trigger, and a little flame popped out of the barrel. “What if I had a gun, huh?”

The guy’s eyes narrowed. He paced after Miguel. “You were screaming. And after that phone thing-” 

“Lot of good you and your fake gun woulda done if I shot you in the fucking face.”

He snatched at the gun. 

Miguel jerked away. He widened his eyes in warning and pointed the lighter at the fucker. “Don’t you fucking grab at me.”

“Or what?” The guy grabbed at the gun. Caught air. “You’ll shoot me?” He grabbed again. More air. “Huh? How you wanna play this, tough guy?” Every grab, pushing Miguel back. 

Miguel’s back hit the counter. The guy faked him out and with one last grab, he caught Miguel’s wrist as their eyes locked. 

“Fuck you,” Miguel hissed and gave the fucker a shove, but at the same time, he grabbed him by the back of the neck. 

Their lips crushed together. Miguel let his robe slip open as that firm body pressed against his. He felt the growl in the guy’s throat through his lips. A tongue delved into his mouth. Fingers curled into a fist in his hair. 

The gun clattered loudly to the counter, but neither of them gave a fuck about that thing. Teeth grazed his lips as his hand slipped down the front of his neighbour’s sweatpants to wrap his fingers around the waking erection. 

“Fuck,” The guy grunted against his lips. 

A grin flitted across Miguel’s face. He nipped at his neighbour’s thick bottom lip. “You like that, hero?”

“God, that bitchy sarcasm is such a fucking boner killer.”

“Oh,” Miguel took his hand back with a shrug. He shoved the guy away and started for his room. “Well, don’t let me get in your way. Go ahead and fuck yourself.” 

In his wake, he heard a growl, “You are so fucking...”

Miguel let his robe flutter to the floor along the way. He heard the scamper of claws behind him, so he murmured, “Stay, Leonidas,” and slipped alone into his room. 

He wasn’t alone for long. Barely got to his suitcase before the door slammed shut. His neighbour shoved him up against the wall. Their lips crushed together once more. Long, calloused fingers ran firmly up his sides and down his back to grip the meat of his ass cheeks. 

Miguel grunted through the kiss. The flavour flooded his mouth the harder he sucked it in, tinged with a bite of cinnamon. 

They broke from the kiss with a shared gasp. Their lips still touched. He could still taste that tongue like it was in his mouth. He sucked in every panted breath his neighbour let out for just a moment before a yank of his shoulder spun him around and he was pushed up, face-first against the wall. 

“Lube,” Miguel panted, “in my bag.” 

“I see it,” his hero grunted. 

He heard the cap pop open. Heard the guy hiss and the slickening sounds of gel getting slathered. He glanced back into those dark eyes to find them already locked on him. 

And he was getting sick of waiting, so he twisted back and caught that thick bottom lip between his teeth. “You always take so fucking long?”

The guy let out a frustrated laugh. He nipped Miguel’s lips back. He caught his chin in his lube-slicked hand and sucked Miguel’s lip into his mouth before hungrily claiming more. His hot tongue delved deeper. And deeper. So deep, Miguel couldn’t breathe. He didn’t fucking want to. 

He grunted heavily through his nose. He tried to battle that tongue, but the harder they kissed, the more he melted into it. 

A hand clapped down on his ass. His body jerked and he gasped at the sound. And the stinging ripples that followed made his body flare. 

“Fuck,” Miguel gasped. “Again.”

“Yeah?” The guy’s lips played over the back of his neck. Sent shivers down his spine as he felt a wet cock press against him. 

Miguel rocked his hips back. “Fuck yes.”

And in answer, that wet hand came down hard. The clap echoed through his empty room, followed by his sharp gasp. Those wet fingers dug into his stinging ass, and the cock pushed in with a vengeance. filling him with a burning pressure that made his legs shake. 

Miguel gave his own shaft a distracted tug. His brows furrowed deep and his lips curled to bare his teeth as his would-be hero began short, eager thrusts. One hand gripped his hip. The other slid down over the front of his thigh, and up his side to finger his ribs and made his flesh tingle with approval. 

The guy pulled his hips away from the wall and thrust in slow and deep. Miguel let out a squeak as he felt him filling him. Felt him brushing a chord that made his mouth water and his eyes flutter. 

Their hips grinded together. In to the hilt. Miguel trembled. His fingers curled against the wall and hot, wet lips played up the side of his neck to graze his earlobe and suck it into a hot mouth. 

Then the guy began to rock. Slowly at first. In and out. But it wasn’t long before that restraint crumbled. He went faster and faster, sending spikes of faint pain and burning bliss rippling through Miguel’s trembling frame. They grunted in time as the guy fucked him harder and harder. 

Miguel’s back arched. His voice got higher and higher. The smell of their sweat mingling grew stronger. He could feel it dripping down his spine, trickling down the side of his face. Felt those teeth sink into his ear, and as he cried out, it just made him burn hotter. 

He pumped furiously at his own cock. His knees buckled. Fingers gripped his hair and yanked back, making his scalp sting wildly and his rising cries bounce off the walls. 

“God,” the guy growled into Miguel’s hair. He sucked feverishly at the sensitive flesh on the underside of Miguel’s jaw. “You’re so loud.” 

Miguel’s cry broke with into a laugh. He felt the guy grin against his neck. Felt the roll of a deep chuckle, but it faded quick, and another sharp slap to Miguel’s ass cut his laugh off with a sharp yelp. 

His toes curled. He moaned through the stinging ripple. His fingers danced faster across his swollen cock. He could feel it teetering - that finish, like a big ball of heat about to burst. He stopped pumping. Just held it, desperately trying to milk that moment as long as he could, but his would-be hero slammed in hard. 

Miguel’s voice cracked. His whole body clenched tight. The guy held it there, as deep as he could get, still pushing as if he could get any deeper. And as Miguel erupted across his bedroom wall, the guy jerked in short, manic thrusts. As Miguel came, each one sent a searing jolt through him. 

The guy pushed into Miguel’s spine and pulled his hips hard against him.

He growled into Miguel’s hair. He thrust hard, his fingers dug into Miguel’s hips harder, only breaking away for short, quick slaps, just hard enough to make his cries break with sharp gasps until finally he rammed in hard with an explosion of heat. 

He crushed Miguel against the wall. Their chests heaved together. His ribs ached. He squirmed beneath the pressure as his legs shook and his breath quivered. 

It lasted a moment longer. Both their bodies clenched together. Those fingers bruising his hips and his toes flexing wildly against the sweat-slicked stone floor. Then, with a trembling, warm rush, everything slowly came unwound. 

They sunk down together to the floor. Thick arms wrapped around Miguel and before he knew it, he was draped across his neighbour’s heaving chest. Their lips brushed sloppily by, their tongues meeting briefly before his head sunk to that broad shoulder and the feeling of a hand running down over his tender ass coaxed him to sleep. 

As the drowsy warmth of dreamland claimed him, he heard his neighbour speak, but he didn’t quite catch it. 

\--

It was cold. That was the first thing Troy noticed. A faint clammy feeling across his flesh. A chill that though he tried to ignore it, there were no covers around to fend it off with, and soon enough it lifted him from his light sleep. 

Then he heard a whine. A deep bark made his eyes pop open. The sound of frantic scratching came at the door, but he didn’t have a chance to react to it, because there was another man. A twisted creature made of shadow crouched over his neighbour, sucking the air in front of his face as its own face slowly took the guy’s features. 

Troy’s whole body was stricken. Just for a second before he stopped giving a fuck what that thing was, and jumped to his feet. 

The thing jerked away, wide eyes reflecting his neighbour’s. It let out a cry that sounded like the neighbour too, but it was definitely not him. Troy snatched the lube off the floor and flung it at the thing. 

It let out an inhumane hiss. It lunged at him, and a scream he didn’t think he could even make ripped from his throat. He dodged just in time, and then the thing was gone. It burst out the window like a bat out of hell and disappeared upwards, towards the roof. 

“What the fuck?!” Troy pushed his panicked hands into his locs. He stared at the window with wide eyes for just a moment longer. “Fuck this. Fuck this shit.” 

He looked down. His neighbour was still out cold, but at least he still seemed to have his face. 

Troy dropped to his knees. He grabbed the guy by his narrow shoulders and gave him a frantic shake. “Hey! Wake the fuck up!” 

The sleepy eyes were slow to open. Because of course they were. The poor guy just had a demon sucking on his goddamn face. 

“We gotta get out of here.” Troy wrapped his arms around those shoulders and the back of his legs, and scooped the limp, sleepy frame up. Then he rushed out the door. “C’mon Leonidas!” He didn’t even need to say it. The dog was following hot on his heels. 

The End. 

  
  



End file.
